Tea
by VaguelyImaginary
Summary: A storm wakes Raven and, in need of calming, she decides to make herself some tea. She finds that maybe tea isn't all she's in need of.


Hey, everyone! It's been a while since I've posted anything but the writing bug got a hold of me and this little plot bunny would not let me forget it! It's probably nothing special but I had to get it out. So, let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans. If I did, Season 6 would have happened by now and Beast Boy and Raven would have likely ended up together.

For now, as the likeliness of that disclaimer isn't going to happen, I give you _Tea_.

-Vaguely

* * *

_Tea_

The thunder wakes her. Raven can normally sleep through a storm but tonight that doesn't seem to be happening. So, she wakes, eyes wide and heart pounding, as the thunder and lightning clash outside her window in a cacophony of sound that has her grinding her teeth together. Normally, she likes storms. They soothe her. The patter of the rain, the flash of lightning here and there, the rumble of the thunder. It rains a lot in Jump City; it's something she's gotten used to. But tonight, things seem different. They _feel_ different.

She sighs and makes the mistake of glancing at the alarm clock sitting innocently on her bedside table. It reads 2:45 a.m. She groans and falls back against her pillows, pressing her fingers to her eyes as another clap of thunder shakes the windows. 'Tea.' she thinks, 'Tea always helps me sleep.' And so she throws off her covers, casting an irritated glare out the rain-soaked window as she stalks to her door and into the hallway.

The Ops Room doors make a quiet 'swishing' noise as they open for her. Raven makes her way down the stairs and over into the kitchen where she opens a cupboard for a mug and a bag of Earl Grey, her movements highlighted by the under cabinet lighting. Humming to herself as she puts the kettle on to boil, she fails to notice the doors opening again and the quiet patter of feet as someone enters the kitchen.

"Storm wake you up?"

She makes a small shrieking noise (because really, what kind of noise was that that actually came out of her mouth?) and promptly drops her mug on the floor. It breaks into pieces and she turns to scowl at Gar, who has sheepishly begun to scratch the back of his neck and mutter "Sorry, Rae. Didn't mean to scare you." She huffs and he watches her eyes glow as the shattered mug on the floor is encased in black energy and lifted into the nearby trashcan.

Once the mug is in the trash, she turns and opens the cabinet again for a new one. The bottom shelf is empty. Starfire must have been the one to put the dishes away because everything is higher up. Raven raises onto her tiptoes and reaches for the nearest mug, her fingertips grazing the handle but not close enough to grab it. The hand that grips the mug for her is decidedly male and definitely Gar's.

He sits it on the counter in front of her and whispers, "There you go."

His breath stirs her hair as his hand falls back to the counter to rest near hers. She turns to him to utter a small "thank you" before turning back to her mug. Her hands are shaking. They haven't been this close in a while and she doesn't quite know how but she's beginning to like it. Goosebumps have appeared on her arms. She feels like a ninny. Really. 'Come on,' she scolds herself, 'it's just Gar. Your friend and teammate. You see him every day.'

But, she has to admit to herself, when was the last time she really _looked_ at him? She eyes him out of the corner of her eye, watching as he continues to stand close enough to her that she can feel him breathe. Azar, when had he grown up? His hair has gotten longer, so that it curls over the tops of his pointed ears, his bangs hanging haphazardly in his eyes. There is a tattoo, she observes now in earnest, on his chest—on his very naked, very toned left pec. _When_ had he gotten that done? _Why_ had she not noticed and noticed sooner, for Azar's sake? He had also outgrown her and now stood at least a head taller. She had to look up at him now to make eye contact. How weird was that? She knew they were all going to get older, thank the goddess, but when had they all gotten there?

They were all in their late twenties now, she and Gar being the youngest at twenty-six and Cyborg the oldest at twenty-nine. Nightwing (who had dropped the Robin moniker years earlier) had just turned twenty-eight and Star was twenty-seven. They had all gotten so much older in the blink of an eye. Wasn't it just yesterday that Starfire had come blasting her way into their lives, Robin and the rest of them left to pick up the pieces, literally? God, they'd come a long way.

She laughs softly to herself, wrapped up in memories and the happiness they bring her when Gar brings her back to the present.

"What's so funny?"

He still hasn't moved and she's come to the realization that not only is it the past making her warm and fuzzy, it's him.

"Just...just thinking about the past."

Her hands are shaking again but she presses them flat against the counter to quell them this time. His chuckle stirs the hair at her temple, his mouth brushing against it as he says,

"Good times, weren't they?"

She makes a non-committal noise, a hum in the back of her throat, as her head bobs in a 'yes' like manner. Her heart is pounding again.

"Rae?"

She audibly swallows, wincing because she knows he can hear it.

"Y-yes?" she whispers back.

"The kettle is going off. Your water is done boiling."

She can actually _hear_ the smirk in his voice. He knows what he's doing to her and he likes it. She takes a small step—more of a shuffle, really—towards the counter. She doesn't know why she does this, exactly, since she's already pressed up against the counter and ends up whacking her foot on the cabinet door, which makes her wince. Again. Lord, what is wrong with her? 'It's just Gar!' her brain screams. Like she doesn't know that.

She feels like an idiot. Like a bumbling, blushing school girl with a crush. The feeling only gets worse when she feels his hand stroke down the center of her back. His head dips just slightly so that his nose trails it's way across her temple and into hair as he softly inhales. Lavender. She always smells of lavender. His mouth turns up into a smile as he hears her gasp slightly.

The storm had woken him too. He'd wanted a glass of water and had walked into the kitchen to get one when he'd seen her there, standing at the counter making tea and he found he just couldn't help himself. He'd had to get near her, touch her, smell her. Lately, she was all he could think of and it was making him crazy. Well, now he was giving some of that back. He only hoped it was working as well on her as it was on him.

Raven feels tingly. Like tiny little shock waves are racing their way from her fingertips to her toes and back again. She finds that she doesn't quite know what to do about it and that's why she's not surprised to find herself turning into Gar, into that warm, hard body. She lays one hand on his shoulder and lifts herself up onto her tiptoes so that her other hand can slide into his hair.

And then she kisses him. A soft, tentative press of her lips against his.

He makes a noise, a surprised hum in the back of his throat, before he responds, hooking one arm around her waist and wrapping his other hand in her hair as his mouth presses more urgently against hers. What started out as a soft, slow something has now turned into a passionate, heated _thing_ and Raven finds herself getting lost in the kiss. In him.

Her hand that had lain so innocently against his shoulder has now moved so that it wraps around the back of his neck to bring him even closer (if that is at all possible). His teeth nip her lower lip and she moans softly. His hands seem to have a mind of their own; the one in her hair fists to tug at the strands and the one at her waist bunches her shirt so that the skin of her hip is exposed. His tongue flicks against her bottom lip and she opens for him, their mouths meshing together in a frenzy that neither of them seem to have a hold on anymore.

It is only the boom of the thunder and the blinding crack of lightning flashing through the windows that has her gasping and wrenching herself out of his arms. They are both panting—he's a little wild-eyed, his hair mussed and mouth swollen from the kiss. She knows she doesn't look much better. Her shirt has rucked up so that her belly is showing and she finds that her hair is in tangles as she reaches up to run a hand through it.

"That...what?" he manages to sputter as his own hand makes it's way through his hair in an attempt to calm it back down. To calm himself back down. Jesus Christ, that had been some kiss. He hadn't known she could kiss like that. Hadn't known she was even capable of it.

"What the hell was that, Rae?"

She can't seem to find words, her mouth opening and closing as she stares wide-eyed back at him.

"I...I don't know...exactly." she manages to get out. Her heart is still pounding and she can't seem to focus on anything except him. What the hell had that been? Besides one hell of a good kiss?

She doesn't really have an explanation, besides the fact that he'd made her feel all tingly and she'd had to make it stop somehow. Only now she just wanted more—more kisses, more of him, more...everything.

She bites her lip, pulling at the ends of her hair as she does so. His eyes haven't left her face and now they stare, transfixed, at her bottom lip as her teeth sink into it. He looks like he wants to kiss her again. They can't have that. 'No, no, ' she thinks, 'they can't have that again.'

"We should go to bed."

It is only after the words have left her mouth that she understands what it sounds like. It has her eyes widening all over again and her arms flailing out in an attempt to keep him calm.

"I ...I just meant that we should go back to bed. Separately. Ya know, in our two separate rooms. You in yours, I in mine. We could...sleep on this." She gestures between them at the lust still lingering in the air.

She tucks her hair behind her ear, nodding. Yes, that's exactly what they could do. They could sleep on it. Then in the morning when they woke up, they could see how they felt. See if things still felt the same or if they felt...different.

He's still staring at her, flabbergasted.

She takes the coward's way out and in a dark flash of magic, transports herself back to the safety of her room, letting out a giant whoosh of air as she drops onto her bed.

"Jesus." she mumbles, flopping face-first into her pillow. She'd royally fucked that one up. _Way to go, Rae, _she thinks somewhat bitterly.

In the kitchen, Gar is still standing, staring at the spot where she'd stood a minute ago. Running his hand through his hair again, he lets out a sigh and shakes his head. 'Sleep on it,' he thinks to himself. Yea, like he'd get any damned sleep tonight. He makes his way doggedly back to his room, mumbling to himself.

The tea is left sitting on the counter in the mug, forgotten.


End file.
